<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>A Peculiar Shade Of Blue by CommanderGoo</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28928259">A Peculiar Shade Of Blue</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommanderGoo/pseuds/CommanderGoo'>CommanderGoo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Legend of Zelda &amp; Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Angst, Body Horror, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Gore, Post-Canon, Pre-Calamity (Legend of Zelda), Pre-Canon, Psychological Trauma, Work In Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:35:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,114</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28928259</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommanderGoo/pseuds/CommanderGoo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After being freed from the burden of Calamity Ganon, Zelda and Link live out their days uneventfully- as uneventfully as they can. Zelda begins to notice something off about Link, but she can't quite place what it is.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Impa &amp; Purah &amp; Robbie (Legend of Zelda), Impa/Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>100</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. An introduction, of sorts.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> Link… Link… Link! </em>
</p><p>“Every day.. After I had lost count of how many years had passed, when the sun was at its highest, I would call for you to wake up. I would pour all of my devotion into the hope that you <em> would </em> , you <em> had to. </em>So, when you did, I knew that my holy strength had returned tenfold. I wish I could’ve spoken to you more- before…” Zelda trailed off. “Well, you know.” She ran her hand through the grass. The morning dew had long since evaporated off, leaving it dry and pleasantly warm. Link stood beside her, just outside his home in Hateno. He had a strange look about him today; more strange than usual, at least. </p><p> </p><p>“Link… What’s wrong?” Zelda queried, hoping she’d get more than a shrug today. </p><p> </p><p>“I think… I’m hungry.” Link told whatever it was his attention was fixed on.</p><p>Zelda looked at him incredulously, then jolted up, gratefully taking the opportunity to actually <em> do </em> something with Link. </p><p>“Well, why don’t we get something to eat?”</p><p>The expression Link gave her was hard to read, but he seemed to agree with her proposition, so they went back towards his house.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Since their victory against Calamity Ganon, and, to be honest, since Link had woken up, he’d behaved very differently to his past self. Zelda knew this, and tried to ignore it. She knew that the shrine would deprive him of his memories, but… </p><p>Well. It wasn’t all bad. This Link felt like an entirely new person. Care-free, verging on care-less. Nothing like the poised, distant and anxious knight she once knew. Occasionally he’d do something <em> hilariously </em> odd. One day, he had walked out of his home in nothing but underwear, and didn’t even seem to notice until Zelda had hurriedly shepherded him back indoors. Sometimes, he would drop utensils, and once, he dropped a knife. Zelda thanked the goddesses it didn’t cut him, as she didn’t have anything on hand with which to patch it up. Since then, he’d handled sharp objects with considerable care. Still - it was a little strange and more than a little concerning that the most acclaimed Royal Guard in Hyrule, the Hylian Chosen by the Sword that Seals the Darkness, the Sacred Princess’ bodyguard, was struggling to use cutlery.</p><p> </p><p>“Impacted motor functions…?” Zelda murmured to herself, poring over some notes on nearby monster attacks. Zelda <em> knew </em> the shrine wasn't perfect, not by a longshot, but it was their only option… Link was so close to… No, no, he- he <em> was </em> dead. He <em> had been </em> for... a while. She’d felt it herself. Through the rain, fire, and all her heaving sobs, he was still and cold as stone. Remembering how heavy he felt made her stomach churn slightly. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, he was gone. </p><p>So, she reminded herself, for all of its setbacks, the shrine was a <em> miracle </em> , no, a <em> blessing! </em> Link is alive! He’s by her side, after 100 years! </p><p>And yet… </p><p> </p><p>Zelda pulled up from her notes to glance at him. </p><p> </p><p>He was sitting at the table, his place set out neatly before him. From her seat, Zelda, once again, couldn’t quite read his expression. That was something of a theme these days. She sighed and buried her head back into her field journal.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t feel like <em> her </em>Link. Zelda furrowed her brow in mild frustration, mostly at herself. She used to be so good at knowing what he was thinking… what was on his mind, and now… She was ashamed for even thinking it: no matter how he acted, he was still Link. The same Link who shielded her in danger, who took his last breaths in her name.</p><p>Her Link.</p><p>Link, Link, Link.</p><p>She buried her head into her journal further.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Zelda did her best to remind him of small things, his favorite spice, the types of saddles he used most often, his favorite time of day. He would remember after being told, but he never brought things up himself. He never really initiated conversations much in the first place… it reminded Zelda a little too much of their early relationship. The idea made her uneasy. Could the resurrection have simply amplified his existing traits?<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>She found herself staring at him often, watching, perhaps hoping, for his impenetrable air to falter. He didn’t seem to mind. Hell- he barely even seemed to notice. His attention was either quickly and infinitely divided, or centered on a single task impregnably for hours… sometimes <em> days </em> at a time. It was worrying, to say the least. His relentless focus seemed to leave very little time for things like food and rest. Zelda had even begun to suspect that Link simply forewent sleeping at all. </p><p> </p><p>One night, she had awoken from a light doze, but, instead of stirring like she usually would, she gave into a lingering suspicion she’d been harboring and opted to open her eyes, just for a little bit. </p><p> </p><p>Link hadn’t moved at all from where she’d left him that evening, sitting motionless at the table. His rice and egg was just as untouched as it was hours ago. </p><p>In her bleary state, Zelda had reasoned to herself that the knight surely, simply, had a lot to think about, and drifted back off to sleep.</p><p>In hindsight, she perhaps should have gotten up and asked if he was feeling okay. More than likely, though, she would’ve received the same non-answer she’d gotten all the other times she’d asked that question. A nod, a grunt, a shrug, all meant the same. She didn’t want to say that she’d “given up”, but she’d definitely stopped pursuing that particular route a while ago. Maybe she’d find some other way of making Link open up about his feelings someday. </p><p> </p><p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>The sun was glinting gently through the slightly overcast skies of southeastern Hebra. Occasional wintery drafts danced down from the perpetually frigid peaks of the distant mountains, and Zelda was looking squarely at a shady spot covered by a solitary tree in the nearby valley.</p><p> </p><p>“I think that would be a good spot to set up. Nice and shaded from the sun and wind.” She remarked.</p><p> </p><p>Link nodded. A common gesture, but each one had its own little differences. Sometimes they would tilt to the left a bit, which meant he was a little opposed, but relenting. This time was a right tilt, which meant full agreement. Deciphering this, Zelda led them to the comfortable area.</p><p> </p><p>Link was carrying the basket filled with various goodies leftover from last night’s feast. At Zelda’s request, of course, Link knew the kitchen staff well, but not <em> please put aside two and a half servings of tonight’s hors d'oeuvres, as me and the princess would like to have an outing tomorrow </em>well. </p><p>Zelda had a posh, soft blanket in arm. Had she ever sat on a proper picnic blanket? Link realized he didn’t mind, it wasn't like he would be able to change that, now or ever, being the simple guard he was. Well, the simple guard bearing the curse of the Sword That Seals the Darkness. The simple guard trying <em> very </em> hard to hide any and all emotions, partially from fear, partially from (crippling) anxiety, partially from stress, partially from fear of hiding his true feelings from any of the too-good observers within and out the castle walls.</p><p>Or from the princess. Or the gods? Maybe himself. </p><p> </p><p>Zelda was already setting out the blanket she brought along, busy in her own head, from the looks of it. Probably wondering why Link had been staring at said blanket for so long. It was probably the embroidery. Probably.</p><p> </p><p>Link wasn’t as blessed as the princess was with reading emotions, he realized this was a strange thing to think about while unpacking a picnic basket, but allowed the thought to dance through his brain as it pleased. How does she know so easily? Am I allowing myself to falter? Can she <em> read my mind </em>?</p><p> </p><p>With that thought, Link cleared his head, just like any dumb teenager would. <em> No more thoughts. My feelings will be secret, even to me. </em></p><p> </p><p>“Link?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Oh Farore, why didn’t you tell me she CAN? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Yes?” It’s a lot harder trying to think of things to say when not allowing oneself to think, Link just found out.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you… going to set out the basket’s contents?” </p><p> </p><p>Link let out the biggest mental sigh he’s had since his 3rd year in the Knight’s Academy. “Oh- sorry, of course.” </p><p><br/>
Link hastily sat down on the delicate blanket, and began shuffling carefully-packaged food out of the expensive, velvet-lined basket. So caught up in the moment was he, that Link forgot about the surprise he had waiting for Zelda at the bottom. </p><p> </p><p>In comparison to the professionally wrapped and sectioned portions prepared by the royal chefs, Link’s hacksaw job of wrapping a small fruitcake was… Laughable, at best. In a brilliant stroke of luck, however, Zelda didn’t seem to know, or notice, what was within the paper tied (sloppily, but well) with the most expensive twine Link could afford. </p><p> </p><p>Zelda’s attention was transfixed on some bizarre concoction unfamiliar, but most certainly welcome, to Link’s palate. </p><p>“Link you simply must try this, it’s porgy roe on top of cured beef with a horseradish sauce… simply wonderful.” The princess was already grabbing delicately plated displays from the small box they came in, and shoveling them into Link’s hands, before he had time to turn off his thoughts.</p><p>“Princess, a question?”</p><p>“Of course!”</p><p>Link paused for a moment, realising he didn’t have time to think about how much a stupid question like this would embarass himself.</p><p>“... What is roe?”</p><p> </p><p>Zelda guffawed, but remembered that Link was… well, he was part of the castle, for certain but… Well, he didn’t know what roe was!</p><p>“It’s-” she snickered, “it’s fish eggs, Link.” Zelda wiped her nose, as to regain her composure. “I’m sorry for laughing-- that was really quite rude-” she was too caught up in her private little joke to realize Link had already swallowed a portion and a half of the delicacy. “Link!”</p><p> </p><p>“Mmph-?”</p><p> </p><p>“Link, you need to <em> savor </em> the flavor! Y-” Zelda got distracted by Link’s chipmunk-esque appearance and stifled a laugh, “you need to enjoy it- pff- <em> slowly </em>.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>About halfway through their meal, the duo took a short respite. Zelda flopped onto her back with a great stretch, and sighed. “You know, Link,” he turned to look at her, “I’ve heard you speak a few times now, but I never felt like I’ve really gotten to <em> know </em> you, you know?” She crossed her arms behind her head, as a sort of makeshift pillow. “Though I’m sure you’ve gotten to know <em> me </em> quite well, no?” The melancholy smile Zelda made felt like it was going to rip Link’s heart in half. He had time to think about what he was going to say, at least.</p><p> </p><p>“I suppose I do,” the knight rested an arm on his knee, “I know more than most would, I think.” Not realizing what kind of hole he had just dug for himself, he continued. “I know that you work harder than the hardest-boiled knight in that castle, and I know you’re kinder than the most pious priests of castle town.” Zelda sat up. “I know your struggle, and I know your pain.” Link grew less relaxed in posture. “I know the lack of appreciation the rest of the court has for you, I know of the suitors you complain to me about, I know of the troubles you have with your stubborn stallion, I know how much you miss your mother, I know your favorite flower, your favorite food, your favorite season, what kinds of nicknames you give to guardians,” Link paused, “I don’t know how to read your emotions very well, though.”</p><p> </p><p>Zelda blinked, feeling <em> very </em> exposed. Was… was Link <em> THAT </em> good of a listener? She wanted to distract herself from the mortifying revelation of how much she used Link like a traveling diary, so she asked him a question she hadn’t asked him before.</p><p> </p><p>“Can you tell me about yourself, Link?”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh-?”</p><p> </p><p>“Can <em> you </em> , <em> o’ gracious and destiny-chosen knight, selected by the sword that seals the darkness </em> ,” Zelda waved her hands theatrically, “divulge unto me some choice information about yourself?” She adjusted herself into a more comfortable listening position. “The most <em> I </em>know is that your father was part of the royal guard.”</p><p> </p><p>“I- well… Hm.” Link rummaged through his brain trying to drag up moments from his past worth note. Definitely not the time him and a few of his mates snuck beer from the kitchen’s private supply when they were 14. Definitely not the time they got stuck with cleaning the water closets for 3 months straight for it.</p><p> </p><p>“Let’s see… I live in the barracks, but my home is in Hateno, with my father and younger sister.”</p><p> </p><p>“You have a sister?!”</p><p><br/>
“Yes and she’s more of a beast than me, my father used to be part of the royal guard, yes, but in his retirement he's a blacksmith. We own two horses, one of which is here-- uh, there,” Link pointed to the dark brown horse grazing by Zelda’s unruly stallion, “Catherine.”</p><p> </p><p>“She’s yours, right?”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Yes, she’s been my horse since I was 6. We also have a few cuccos, Pam, Letty, Eda, Mullin, and Silvie. My sister takes care of them mostly.” Link shook his head and chuckled to himself. “Don’t need guard dogs with cuccos trained like that…”</p><p> </p><p>Zelda scoffed. “Please, continue. This is just making you seem like a farm boy!”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, for the short time when I was very young and my father was away, I was.” Link hesitated. “Before my mother passed, I was able to stay at the house and help her.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh- I’m sorry…”</p><p> </p><p>“No, it’s alright, she passed when I was pretty young, about 5, right after my sister was born. When she went, my father wasn’t able to stay at the castle any longer, so he began training me to take up his mantle.” Link wasn’t used to talking for this long, so he took a swig from his water flask. “Sorry- <em> ahem </em>- anyways, as soon as I was able, I was sent off to the castle to start being a page. Once I got to full-fledged knighthood, I was able to start sending money back home, been doing it ever since… about 90 percent of what I’m paid- or something like that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Your sister is very lucky to have a brother as good as you” Zelda said with a smile that damn near blinded her knight.</p><p> </p><p>“Heh- uh… thanks.” Link ruffled the back of his head. “I um… pulled out the sword at 12, but-” Link took a deep breath, “I didn’t tell anyone till I was... about 14.” He looked on to the rolling hills ahead of them. “I knew that sword would only bring me pain, I knew it would rob me of my childhood. I knew it would place expectations onto me that I simply wouldn’t have been able to handle.” The knight returned to his characteristic stoic expression. “I… I can’t really handle them now, to be honest. It’s the reason I-'' he sighed, “With so many eyes upon me, with so much at <em> stake </em>, I… I feel it’s necessary for me to stay strong. For me to silently bear any burden that gets placed on my back.” </p><p> </p><p>Zelda stared at him for a moment, raw, cracked open like a shell. “Link-”</p><p> </p><p>Link let out a pitiful laugh. “Pathetic, isn’t it? I come off as this dutiful, silent knight but… hah-” Zelda could tell he was holding back a whimper, “I’m just a dumb kid, who made a dumb decision, and now has to deal with a destiny I did <em> not </em> sign up for.” He sighed and flopped onto his back in a similar manner to his princess not too long ago. “I wish… I wish I could just-- I don’t know- see my cuccos again. I miss them. And my sister. And my dad.”</p><p> </p><p>Zelda watched as Link looked up to the sky with the most vulnerable eyes she’d ever seen on him. She, too, flopped back in a similar manner to before, and sighed in kinship. “I guess you and I aren’t so different, hm?” The princess drank deeply of the early autumn breeze, it smelled like wheat and rain and pollen and honey and Link and lavender and-</p><p> </p><p>“By the way, you have my express permission to ask for a <em> box </em> next time you intend to travel with fruitcake.”</p><p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>something something zelda</p><p>My first big fic.... expect some fairly longish pauses between chapters for this one... thanks for reading so far! :D</p><p>(twt is @bastardgooey, tumblr is commander-goo)</p><p>shoutout to zoe (@bigskycastle) for being a fucking homie for this whole fic and AU idea in the first place</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. An impromptu Reunion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Link had another hard look about him, as per the new usual. Zelda eyed him up and down from the same desk atop the balcony she had claimed as her own a few weeks ago. </p><p>“When was the last time you took a walk, Link?” The scholar peered down on him innocently, waiting for an answer she knew wouldn’t come. </p><p>“I think it would be good for us to go out, you know, a little farther than just the main village,” she pondered, “maybe that lighthouse?” Link shrugged, as per usual. These ones had no variation like his old body language. They felt so… empty. Was that the right word? They didn’t feel like Link. That’s better. The shrugs looked like someone else’s.</p><p>“Well, we should go, then!” Zelda said in a tone that betrayed her dull mood. Link nodded half-heartedly. </p><p> </p><p>Link led the duo, albeit dizzily. Zelda noted that he looked lightheaded, from the way he swayed slightly when walking. “I’m glad you know the way up, saves me the hassle of asking around.” She sigh-laughed to herself. “Does anyone live up there?”</p><p>“Purah, Simyn.” Link didn’t even bother turning around.</p><p>“W- Purah?!”</p><p> </p><p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>Zelda stared up at the huge, repurposed cathedral that was the royal ancient research lab, its courtyard “defiled” with at least 30 furnaces. She, unlike the zealots she was so often compared to, thought that it was an excellent use of space, and that the piercing blue glow of sheikah magic was quite welcoming. She had come to the lab attended by two knights, Samuel and Horace. They were a friendly duo, amongst themselves, but never to her. For Zelda, they were strictly business, and she <em> hated </em>that. </p><p> </p><p>She would often think about the gaggle of pages that would attend her when she was younger, and only allowed to explore as far as the Sacred Grounds without her father or some high-brow official. The pages would talk to her, make jokes, and the like. She thought back to a handful of them that made her smile the most, faces with no names now, likely. Would she even be able to recognise them, ten years later?</p><p> </p><p>Now, though, she was expected to act proper, and dignified, something that Purah and Robbie would make sure not to allow in <em> any </em>meeting with them.</p><p> </p><p>Indeed, when Zelda entered the old place of prayer, she had a list of things she expected to see, however, people <em> wearing </em> parts of ancient technology that were still <em> on </em> was not very high on it. Samuel and Horace were similarly taken aback by this.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh- princess! Hello!” Purah called from behind a shelf stuffed to the brim with blueprints and books. The bright purple streak of hair made her easy to see- her snow white, bunched up locks helped too, but the streak was rather loud, as well. Had they ever been orderly here? Oh, who was she to judge, Zelda couldn’t remember the last time she had organised her study.</p><p> </p><p>“Purah! Hello! I see you are…” She looked at the laughing sheikah pointing in random directions, while wearing a helmet affixed with multiple jittering guardian eyes. “... Working quite hard on uhm… something!”</p><p> </p><p>The genius eccentric burst out laughing. “That? That’s <em> all </em> Robbie. I haven’t the slightest clue what he’s even planning on using it for…” She tapped her pencil against her lip a few times. “Probably something to give our enemies miigraaiines--!” She dragged out the syllables and waved her fingers for dramatic effect, dropping her pencil. Zelda stifled a snort as she went to pick it up.</p><p> </p><p>“So, other than Robbie’s so called <em> migraine machine </em>, how have things been progressing? I heard you and him have been working on some new methods of repairing damaged gears!”</p><p><br/>“Right on the nose, princess!” Smoke began puffing out of an unattended vial on Purah’s desk. “Erm- maybe you should uh-” the vial started spattering, “ask Robbie!” The scholar rushed back to fix whatever concoction she was preparing-- failed to prepare.</p><p> </p><p>Samuel was already volunteering to try on Robbie’s latest migraine machine, while Horace chatted with the door guards near the entrance. Zelda felt a pang of melancholy in her gut, looking at them all having so much fun, but swallowed it like all the other times she had done so before. She wouldn’t say she was <em> jealous </em>, per se, she just wished she had the same--</p><p> </p><p>She was jealous.</p><p> </p><p>“Princess! Welcome back!” The eccentric genius’s voice cut through the fog billowing in her brain, and dragged her back to reality. “I see you’ve acquainted yourself with my newest, greatest, and biggest breakthrough yet.” He pointed smugly at the already dizzy Samuel. “The GUARDIAN VISION <em> telehelmet </em>!” Robbie struck his thumb across his lip like a match, waiting for a reaction from Zelda. Not receiving one fast enough, he goaded her. “Pretty great stuff, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh- erm… Yes! Excellent work, Robbie!” Samuel had already fallen flat on his arse. “If you don’t mind me asking-”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course not!”<br/><br/>“Just what is it uhm… for?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh- well, y’see,” he adjusted his falling goggles, “I’ve found it rather <em> inconvenient </em> that our soldier’s field of vision is a <em> measly </em> thirty degrees, your highness.” Robbie swaggered over to Samuel, still reeling from the helmet, and yanked it off his head. “You see, this little do-hicky here increases that field to <em> three hundred and sixty degrees </em> of <em> perfect </em> detail!” </p><p> </p><p>“Fascinating! So it must use some of the same wiring as your Lizal style goggles, yes?”</p><p> </p><p>“Rrrright on the target, princess! I’m impressed!” Robbie crossed his arms proudly.</p><p> </p><p>“You should be, with how little my father is allowing me to pursue research right now!” Zelda laughed heartily, refusing to take note of how quickly Robbie’s usual cocky smirk slumped down into a frown.</p><p> </p><p>Purah peeked out from the less smoky desk. “You know we can vouch for you, your highness!” She dusted off her work blouse. “If you need a retreat from all that prayer, just have Impa ask for a message!” Half storming, half leisurely walking up to Zelda, she remarked. “It’s not right for him to be bossing around a fourteen year old like this, really!”</p><p> </p><p>“Purah, it’s- it’s fine, really!” She waved her hand modestly. “The way it’s structured now- well- It lets me have something to look forward to!”</p><p> </p><p>Robbie sighed loud enough for the entire lab. “Princess, you’ve been attached to our hips since you were three, back when we were castle town’s most notorious team of young pyrotechnics. We know when you’re lying.” The researcher duo nodded matter-of-factly in unison, to Zelda’s dismay. </p><p> </p><p>“You two really-” she sighed, knowing full well what was coming next, “you must understand that…”</p><p> </p><p>“We know!” The scholars looked between themselves, then to the very out of place looking Samuel, who stradling the side of their conversation bubble. Purah attempted, and failed, to discreetly motion for him to back off.<br/><br/>“Princess,” she spoke up, “How about I accompany you back to the castle, after today?” She gave Zelda a motherly look. “I can tell you have a lot you need to unpack, your highness.”</p><p> </p><p>“But you look like you’re so busy, I would just be a distraction from your work-”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah-ah-ah! I won’t hear it!” Purah waggled her finger like one of Zelda’s bitter old tutors. “Robbie can take care of <em> all </em> of it. Especially after he left me in the dust when he picked up his little… migraine machine.”</p><p> </p><p>“Call it that one more time!” Robbie spat, half jokingly.</p><p> </p><p>“Ohh I’m so <em> scared! </em>” She leaned down a bit, to look Zelda in the eye. “Me and Impa are here if you need anything, never forget that. Little princess.” Purah ruffled her hair. “Think of us like your big sisters.”</p><p> </p><p>“And what about me?” Robbie called out, already halfway back to his own stuffed desk.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re the annoying dog!”</p><p> </p><p>Samuel and Horace couldn’t help themselves from laughing, along with the other researchers in the lab.</p><p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p> </p><p>Zelda stared up at the lighthouse. How old is Purah, now? She must be at least a hundred and twenty, right?</p><p> </p><p>How on <em> earth </em> does she make it up and down these hills?</p><p> </p><p>And… who was Simyn?</p><p> </p><p>She trudged on upwards, keeping up with the seemingly unphased Link ahead of her. He was hardly even panting. He must be in better shape than Zelda originally thought! They passed a few signs warning of some great punishment that Link seemed to alltogether ignore, or perhaps he had walked by them enough times to not notice them anymore? Zelda wondered why Purah would be so cloistered so-</p><p> </p><p>No, no it wasn’t suddenly. Purah had left Zelda behind in time one hundred years ago. Zelda’s memories of the castle and its endless routines became such a murky blur that she could hardly pick out moments of it, yet the moments before she entered that battle were still crystal clear. The scent of blood and mud and rain and sheikah metals and malice and wind and lightning and bodies. She remembered before the calamity, too. Plenty of things. Like-</p><p> </p><p>Link opened the door to the old lighthouse, and Zelda was greeted by a diminutive Sheikah child, tending to some parchment work. A middle aged Sheikah man stood towards the back, parsing through a bookshelf, minding his own business in a similar manner to the little girl. Zelda glanced between them, and to Link.</p><p> </p><p>“Erm- pardon me,” the little girl paused, and looked up, “I’m assuming the man over there is Simyn, correct?”</p><p><br/>“Yes, that <em> is </em> his name.” The child peered up at Zelda from behind thick, round glasses. “What are you doing here, ignoring the signs outside?”</p><p> </p><p>Zelda froze for a moment, she hadn’t been scolded for doing something mundane in- well, a hundred years! “Ah- well, you see-” She nervously turned to Link for support, but after seeing his new normal, glazed expression, she steeled herself. “We came to see researcher Purah.”</p><p> </p><p>Simyn had already had enough. “Purah, it’s the princess for Din’s sake! You haven’t seen her in a hundred years! Don’t pull the prank on <em> her </em>!”</p><p> </p><p>“Ohh… well now you’ve ruined it!” Purah crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, sighing. “As you can see, many things happened while y- woah there!” </p><p> </p><p>Before Purah was given the opportunity to finish, Zelda had scooped her up into the biggest hug she had given in a month and a half, at least. She started weeping, and babbling like a child found after wandering too far away.</p><p> </p><p>“Purah- I was… I was so worried you might’ve-”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh come on now, little princess, it’d take a lot more than <em> old age </em> to make me kick it!” She laughed like she always used to. “Though being held up like this is a bit humiliating--”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh-! My apologies-” Zelda quickly set down her friend, and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “You absolutely <em> must </em> tell me <em> every </em>detail of what happened to…”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh don’t worry, just make sure Link covers his ears.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Within a short time, Zelda had begun to confide in Purah very often, and found herself reserving entire days just to visit with her old friend. She thought her appearance off-putting at first, but the science-minded part of her was simply too excited by the possibilities opened by a rune that could reverse the effects of aging to pay it much mind for very long. </p><p> </p><p>They talked about many things, mostly events and discoveries Zelda had missed out on while she battled the Calamity. Purah was happy to regale in great detail, though, and Zelda was happy to listen.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>shorter chapter this time... don't worry though, three will hopefully make up for it &lt;;-D</p><p>edit: you saw nothing.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Doctor-Patient Confidentiality!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>One day, Purah requested that Link accompany Zelda on her next trip to her lab, as she hadn’t spoken to him in a while. Zelda, taking any opportunity to perhaps get Link to open up a little more, obliged willingly. </p><p> </p><p>Link hadn’t opened up more. Less; he seemed to retreat even further into himself once there was more than one person in the room with him. More so than the first visit they paid to Purah's home. Zelda had apologised for his rudeness, and quietly blamed it on his lingering shock from “the whole ordeal”, as she had started to call it. Purah seemed concerned, understandably, but she let it go, and waved them out with a smile.</p><p> </p><p>On their way out, Link seemed to linger by the furnace for a bit. He looked, for the first time in ages, tired. Had the interaction worn him down? Zelda remembered Link being a very introverted person even after they had grown close - not to mention, Purah was... kind of a lot, even for her.</p><p> </p><p>She allowed herself to slip into her old self for a moment, and did what she thought that Zelda would have done. Link turned to look at her as she took his hand. She was the one to lead him down a hill, for what felt like the first time. “This isn’t so bad,” Zelda mused to herself, “I could get used to being the gallant one.” She glanced over her shoulder to give him a cheeky grin. Link's eyes were on the horizon.</p><p>Zelda had learned to not take his long silences personally over a hundred years ago, and so they walked back to Link’s cottage with no further words said. </p><p> </p><p>She decided to make dinner, this time. A simple porridge was on the menu, as she still wasn't as well versed in the cooking arts as her traveling partner of long ago - and now. </p><p> </p><p>Link stared at his modest wooden bowl for some time, looking rather sickly.</p><p> </p><p>She was tired of waking up at unholy hours to see his food untouched, so this time, she commanded him to eat- as politely as one could, of course. </p><p>“Link, for Hylia’s sake, eat.” She considered this. “Please.”</p><p>Link grabbed the nearest spoon to him and began shoveling porridge into his mouth, not even stopping for a breath, until his bowl was empty. Zelda, after weeks of seeing him not so much as pick at his food, froze in place with her own spoon halfway to her mouth. “My... goodness,” she managed, after a moment of processing. “What the hell was that?”</p><p> </p><p>Link regarded her evenly. “I ate,” he explained. </p><p> </p><p>Zelda lowered her spoon. “That... you did,” she said. “I just meant…” What did she mean? She told him to eat, and he ate. For what might have been the first time in weeks, for all she knew. But was it really her place to point that out? Heaven knows she struggled to choke down even the smallest morsel of food for weeks following her emergence from Ganon’s.. hold. Surely she had no right to criticise Link’s eating habits.</p><p>“Just… could you be more… delicate, next time?” she said instead.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Link, in the following days, had begun to look more and more drained. For the first time, Zelda saw him laying down. She was so surprised that she paid little mind to the fact he was curled up in the fetal position on the floor by his bed under the stairs. She brought this up to Purah, who asked if Zelda would be willing to bring him to her lab. “Just to run some health checks,” she assured the princess. Zelda obliged, knowing that if there was anyone qualified to pull Link out of his newfound lull, it was Purah. For better or for worse.</p><p> </p><p>The next day, Zelda found herself having to practically drag Link up the many hills to Purah’s house. If Link noticed the strange little role reversal, he didn’t comment. He didn’t respond to Zelda’s many concerned inquiries about his health, either. Once there, Purah instructed her to stay outside while she did some experimental screenings. When Zelda asked why, Purah gave some explanation involving words like “privacy” and “confidentiality” and “morals” that Zelda was certain had to have been a new addition to the eccentric scientist’s policy, given that she’d never cared before. Zelda knew more than anyone, though, that a hundred years can change someone’s attitude rather drastically, so she let it go. </p><p> </p><p>A few grueling hours later, Purah opened the door to her lab, revealing a much less deathly looking Link. “Just what did she do to-” </p><p> </p><p>To Zelda’s astonishment, Link opened his mouth and began to answer her. </p><p>“She--” before Link could finish, Purah silenced him with a swift kick to the shins.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Doctor-patient confidentiality!” she chirped.</p><p> </p><p>Before Zelda could point out that the concept of doctor-patient confidentiality was generally not applicable to situations lacking a doctor or patient, Purah barrelled on, “I just did a few li’l scans with my new modified rune! After it told me some of the things that oughtta be looked at, I fixed him up with a couple specialty elixirs. Should be good as new!”</p><p> </p><p>Link didn’t make any move to correct her, so Zelda figured Purah was, at least, not completely lying. Even if she was - Zelda glanced from Purah’s tight-lipped smile to Link’s face, which, for the first time in weeks, had some life to it - Zelda didn’t really mind. Purah could get up to whatever dubious, questionably-ethical things she liked if it meant Link was… Normal? Zelda didn’t know if normal was the right word, but was relieved nonetheless.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“So,” Zelda pondered, “is he… alright to go?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure is!” Chimed Purah, motioning for Link to get up. “If you notice anything else wrong, just let me know and bring him up again~.” She paused, then leaned in to cup a hand to her mouth and half whisper. “He might just be experiencing some… post slumber effects.” Looking satisfied enough with that explanation, she nodded. “Muscle atrophy, nerve damage… you know.” The diminutive sheikah waved her other hand dismissively.</p><p> </p><p>“Then… should he stay here and rest?” Zelda asked, worried for Link. “For his own sake?”</p><p><br/>
“I’m alright.” His voice cut the awkward conversation in half like a well sharpened knife. “Really, I’m alright,” Link rubbed his brow, “was there… anything you needed?”</p><p> </p><p>Zelda, dumbstruck at Link’s full on speech, (compared to their previous interactions) did a double-take. “Anything<em> I </em> needed?” She felt the poison dripping from those words as soon as they left her mouth. “I- <em> ahem </em>,” she corrected herself, and turned to her other friend in the room, “sorry, Purah, we can get going. I don’t want to subject you to what I'm about to do.” Said the 117 year old Princess of Hyrule.</p><p> </p><p>“... Just don’t cut him with anything, for his and your sake.” Purah said, shocked at Zelda’s very sudden change in attitude.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh but of course,” Zelda said with a smile that betrayed her icy eyes, “I wouldn’t <em> dream </em> of it.”</p><p> </p><p>Link glanced back and forth nervously between the two girls, not knowing what kind of fate awaited him.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The walk back to Link’s house was uncharacteristically silent, Zelda led the way by a fair distance, but didn’t bother to turn around and check on him. He was keeping up just fine, as if the past few weeks hadn’t even happened. The princess was determined to have Link speak first, even if it tore her guts up. </p><p> </p><p>Each step in silence felt harder and harder, but she steeled herself. If he was truly feeling well enough to speak back there, he should feel well enough to speak now.</p><p>Crossing the small bridge to Link’s house, passing his gaudy sign, they entered. Zelda paid no heed to the watchful eye of her knight, and went upstairs to read… or perhaps write? Maybe she was going to scribble in frustration till she screamed, she didn’t exactly know yet. Link remained downstairs for a while, then went out to do Hylia knows what. Zelda shook her head and sighed, crumpling back into the, admittedly, very comfortable chair. Not knowing anything else to keep her busy at the moment, she began writing down her frustrations on the nearest scrap of paper she had. </p><p> </p><p><em> Why aren’t you saying anything? Why are you acting like nothing happened? What even happened, anyways?! I had been looking after and tending to you for nearly two months now and you're just acting as if that never happened! Not even a thank you?! What has happened to you? My knight has… </em> </p><p> </p><p>She clenched her jaw and quickly crumpled up the parchment, shoving it into a drawer of the desk. Rubbing her eyes, she groaned in a very typical, teenage way. “Calm down, Zelda. When he’s ready, he’ll speak. That’s how it's always been,” she half-whispered to herself, “you’ll just… have to wait.” </p><p> </p><p>She looked out the nearby window with a disgruntled frown, then crossed her arms on top of the desk and rested her head within them. “Stupid kn-” before Zelda could finish, something caught her attention. A smell. A very <em> familiar </em> smell. A smell so sickeningly sweet it could be recognised from halfway across a castle. Egg tart?</p><p> </p><p>Zelda, caught up far too deeply in the nostalgia of the saccharine stench, almost tripped down the stairs trying to get outside, but right before she reached for the door, none other than her <em> stupid knight </em> opened it, platter in hand. The princess jumped backwards in surprise, “h- sorry, I-” before she spilled more words, going against her private vow earlier, she shut herself up, and turned away. </p><p> </p><p>After letting a very perplexed Link come fully indoors, she walked outside. She attempted to hastily shut the door, however, Link grabbed her wrist and led her back inside to the table. </p><p> </p><p>“Please, sit down,” he pulled a chair out for himself and Zelda, “I wanted this to be a surprise, but I guess your nose is better than I thought…” He ruffled the back of his hair, but quickly recoiled, remembering that his hands were covered in sticky egg tart filling. “Ah- uh… sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>Zelda guffawed, not really knowing how else to react to this situation. Link turned a peculiar shade of red in reaction to this. </p><p> </p><p>“Uhm… here. I need to- wash off my hands.” With that, Link left the medium sized platter on the table and hurried outside once again. Zelda looked down at the hastily-made looking dish before her, and noticed something unique. It was embellished with small text, seemingly written with wildberry syrup, although crudely.</p><p>“Thank you very much!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>heheheh... double chapter posting...</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p>don't uh... expect this again LOL i just had most of ch 3 done so i finished it quick ヽ(¯▿¯)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Such Strange Gods, Such Humble Mortals</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zelda had already scarfed down the sweet egg tart. Where did Link learn how to make them, anyways? She stared down at the empty plate before her contemplatively, perhaps wishing for another to appear before her, perhaps trying to formulate a single thought out of the variable stew that had conglomerated within her head. She sighed heavily then fell back into one of the two simple wooden chairs surrounding Link’s table. Peering around the house, only slightly larger than her living quarters one hundred years ago, she wondered if she could ever bring herself to move. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She imagined living somewhere else many times, but she never fathomed it when she set foot into the cozy, lived-in shack. Zelda decided to chock it up to her being too busy herding Link.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She cracked her knuckles against the tableside and cleaned up the single set she ate from. The princess paused at the stairway, and drank deeply of the now almost unparsable scent of dried lavender, which hung above Link’s new bed spot. Instead of continuing with her mindless reading, she decided to go outside and speak with Link, as he had fulfilled his half of her unspoken bargain.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hateno village in springtime smelled like near constant rain, perfumey wildflowers, a pleasant mud, and apple blossoms. Zelda had only recently discovered the apple tree behind Link’s house. No matter the time of year, barring winter, of course, it was exploding with fruit. Neither had bothered to question why, but to Zelda, it felt as if the house itself had blessed the tree as a thank you for being rescued from demolition. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She wandered around Link’s home for a bit, observing the damp flowers and wondering if the small pond next to it would bear frogs this year. She then approached Link’s horse, Storm, who was resting patiently in its shabby stable, nothing like the royal stables that housed his and her horses so long ago. Zelda retrieved an apple from her sleeve, which she had been cleverly hiding from the horse up until that moment. Storm eyed her with his standard disgruntled look, then bared his teeth and nickered, ready to snatch the fruit from Zelda’s hand at the nearest moment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“My, impatient today, hm?” Zelda patted Storm’s shoulder, then brought the apple high enough for him to reach with little effort. “I suppose that’s fine,” she glanced away to the saplings around Link’s house, “a little bit of variety never hurt, hm?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Storm stared at her with the ambivalence only a horse could have, continuing to munch on the sugar-sweet apple.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Zelda turned to stand by the cliff overlooking much of Necludia, the tower in the distance both an eyesore and a monument. She stared at the sky above it, such an unnatural shade of blue it was, brighter and more vibrant than her royal outfits, than the champion’s fabrics, the same cerulean she had found herself getting lost in more than the Zelda of the past would’ve deemed acceptable. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before Zelda had realised his approach, the wielder of that cerulean magic walked past her, wearing fresh clothes and attempting to manage his still very soaking wet mane of hair. He paused after passing, and looked at her with a frustrated, tired, and altogether exhausted expression.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How in Farore’s expanse do you dry your hair so quickly?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Zelda stared at him for a moment, or two, or three, or a year. “Well, first, you need to brush it <em> before </em> using a towel.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p>
<p>Zelda, wrapped in sunset glow, almost silently whispered her regular prayers. They were almost like a song to her now, for she had practiced them for so many innumerable hours beneath those watchful, empty eyes of Hylia’s visage. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em> “Grant me the wisdom…” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Deliver unto me the courage…” </em>
</p>
<p><em> <br/></em> <em> <br/></em> <em> “Bestow myself with the power…” </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Link watched behind her dutifully, as he always has done. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “O’ goddesses, graceful and forever radiant…” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “In this time of need…” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “I seek only to aid my people...” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Zelda could feel the biting cold of the Tabantha spring’s late fall waters, it crawled up her ceremonial dress like a thousand stinging ants. Her hair was starting to get heavy, too. <br/><br/>“I think, on average, my hair is wet more than its dry now.” The meek princess parsed a strand hanging over her shoulder and wrung it out. She exhaled, not wanting to continue with her ceaseless praying any longer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “I pray for the power of protection…” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “The power to destroy evil…” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “The power to face my destiny head-on…” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She could hear Link shifting around behind her, his hearing was always better than hers. She continued to beg the doll-like statue, with her benevolent, deaf face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “I pray for the courage to protect those in need…” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “The courage to destroy those who rear their heads against thy holy grace…” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “”The courage to continue forward into my destiny, unburdened…” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Link was facing his princess’s back now. He knew what was coming next, though he wished time would freeze in this moment, so she could feel… Satisfied? He didn’t know if she had ever felt that while beseeching the goddesses, but he wished she<em> could </em>, just this once, maybe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “I… Pray f-for the wisdom… to…” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “To…” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Zelda looked up to Hylia’s mockery, her face twisted into a maniacal, silent laughter. Zelda knew exactly what this statue thought of her. It thought the same thing everyone else in her kingdom was too afraid to say. In its sing-song tone, it mocked her openly and with no remorse.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “So the little failure princess once again comes to grovel at my feet~?” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “You believe you are even worthy to do that! Pah!” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Beg then! Beg till your voice goes hoarse! Nothing will ever come of such things! You, in your childlike foolishness and crisis of faith, have single-handedly doomed all of Hyrule!” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The statue screamed with laughter until it made Zelda want to scream back. She had had more than enough, and stormed out of the icy waters, past a very concerned looking Link.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She glumly plopped down by the fire, still sopping wet, and stared into the licking flames, as if they would be some salvation, or at least solace, to her current state.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Link,” she called out into the flames, barely audibly, “Why do you think the Goddesses hate me so?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Link approached her, already toting a towel in his left arm. He draped it over her head gently.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I feel like they simply don’t care anymore, to be honest.” He sat down beside her, and offered a swig of his water pouch. Zelda obliged and sighed in a new, relieved way.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, the comforting part of that, be it true, means it’s not my fault, at least.” Link could plainly see the lie in her smile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Zelda retrieved a brush from her travel pack, and began the arduous project of detangling her wet mop of hair. “You know,” she used her fingers to undo a particularly unruly knot, “I really do appreciate your words, Link.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The knight stared at her for a moment, or two, or three, or a year. He considered passing out on the spot, but fought that raging boar in his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They make me feel…” Another knot. “Less alone, I suppose.” She was nearly finished untangling her darkened golden locks, but paused.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Link,” he snapped out of the fictitious battle in his mind, “When was the last time you’ve brushed your hair?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Link stared at her for another year, but for slightly different reasons. “Well, I- uh…” He pondered for a moment. “I suppose it’s been about three days now, yeah.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Three days?!” Zelda looked at him with a similar expression she wore after almost being assassinated. “Gods and tales, undo your hair now.” She motioned for him to turn around, which he did rather hastily.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m usually a bit <em> preoccupied </em>, if I beg my pardon.” Link turned to cheekily grin. “Ow-!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do not beg to me.” Zelda’s voice took on an uncharacteristic harshness then. She hadn’t realised how tightly she had gripped Link’s hair “Ahem- sorry.” She began dutifully brushing his tangled mess, wincing at every stray foreign object she found.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Link?” Zelda stopped for a moment.</p>
<p><br/>“Yes, princess?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Has anyone ever… braided your hair?” Zelda’s tone was meek and reserved.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh- well, my sister used to, whenever I’d visit she would spend all afternoon braiding almost my entire head.” Link shrugged. “To be honest, she hasn’t done that in a few years, now.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Would you mind if I braid it?” She quieted her voice further. “Just a few strands, at most.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> Oh Farore’s kindness, I see the gods haven’t gone completely deaf! </em>“Oh-” Link turned to look at her, “uh… go right ahead.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Zelda gave one of her more frequent half-smiles, and began piecing bits of Link’s hair, which was easier to manage than she had originally expected. Less thick than Impa’s, she mentally made a note. She had no particular idea in mind for the style she sought to fashion Link’s soft hair into, but continued on with her work nevertheless.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Link,” she continued dutifully braiding, “I don’t know how I would’ve gotten this far without you, really.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Link broke his attention away from how good it felt to have someone fuss over his hair again, and focused on Zelda’s words.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’ve always been so… patient, and as kind as you possibly could be.” She sighed, and slowed her work slightly. “I… I think you’re one of the best friends I could’ve asked for, truly.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Link froze, holding on to those words as if they were delivered unto him by the goddesses themselves. He turned back to her once again. The knight attempted to formulate something, <em> anything </em> in response. You too? Thank you? I love you? If I could make a bridge beyond the great canyon that separates Hyrule from the wild hills beyond, I would whisk you, and you alone to that peaceful, untarnished land to live out your days away from the curse that had been thrust upon you for no reason, outside of the gods’ cruel game of chess?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Zelda observed Link’s bright pink face for a moment. “I suppose actions speak louder than words at times, hm?” She said with a giggle that made Link feel like passing out again.</p>
<p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>yall are eating good. please enjoy the fluff this is like my first time writing it (praying emoji)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Dreaming of a Storm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zelda attempted to distract herself from her instincts telling her to scream her head off by fidgeting with a pen on Link’s desk. She was never told how he got that artisanally crafted pen from a shop in castle town, the same shop the aristocrats in the castle went to for purchasing their gaudy quills and inkwells. </p><p>The shopowner’s name was delicately carved into the side of the pen. Narwen. It was in such good shape that Zelda would have been content simply accepting that it traveled through time, right into her hands.</p><p> </p><p>Link emerged from under the stairs, hair looking much more managed than when he left the pond. She peered down on him ambivalently, continuing to ignore the voice in her head. He had a book in hand, though Zelda couldn’t make out what it said from her perch in the loft.</p><p> </p><p>Such a comfortable loft it was, Link hardly used it, or the house, at all. At least, until Zelda came into the picture. After spending a rather awkward first night arguing, admittedly one-sidedly, over which one of them was more deserving of sleeping on the floor, Link moved the bed into the small alcove under his stairs. </p><p>He then discreetly bought a bed off of Bolson, one of the two men Zelda has found to be frequent loiterers around Link’s house. Zelda had since filled up any free space past that new bed with bookshelves stuffed to the brim with any tome she could get her hands on, which was mostly overflow from Purah’s archives, but was still all welcome to passing the time with.</p><p> </p><p>Walking up the stairs, he called in his often too-quiet voice. “I found this stowed away under my bed.” He held up a leather bound book as he ascended. It looked strangely old, a hundred and twenty years, at least, Zelda mused.</p><p>She glanced at Link. He didn’t look nearly a hundred and twenty. </p><p>She wondered if she was starting to get wrinkles. </p><p>Oh right, the book.</p><p> </p><p>“Would you be so kind as to bring it to the desk, hero?”</p><p> </p><p>Link narrowed his eyes, then set it down on top of a pile of miscellaneous papers Zelda was shuffling through, cover down. She eyed him up and down, unamused. The corners of his mouth were upturned in a childlike look of preemptive satisfaction.</p><p> </p><p>“You know,” she turned the book over, “you could’ve just-”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> A Botanist’s Guide to Fields, Forests, Deserts, Tundras, and All in Between. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Zelda stared down at the tome in her hands silently, mouth agape. </p><p> </p><p>“This… this is-”</p><p> </p><p>“I found it in one of the bookshelves in your room- your old room.”</p><p> </p><p>Zelda snapped out of it for a spell. “You went pillaging through my <em> room </em>?” </p><p> </p><p>Link went pale, he hadn’t realised that, perhaps, rifling through the personal belongings of a royal family member wasn’t the best of ideas. He chose simply to ignore the fact that he rifled through her <em> diary </em>, as well.</p><p> </p><p>The princess guffawed, then put her hand to her temple. “I suppose I can’t blame you.” She shook her head. “You really just roam wherever you please, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>He regained some color. “I… suppose, yes.” Leaning back on the railing, he tugged at his sleeve. “It looked like… It seemed important. To you.”</p><p> </p><p>She ran her fingers across the molted cover. She remembered sitting up far past her bedtime with her mother, reading about her favorite plants from around her kingdom. “It was very important to me,” she smiled wearily, “thank you.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>The rest of the day wiled on uneventfully, Zelda decided she would speak to Link about his behavior <em> after </em>dinner.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>The sun was dragging its feet sleepily across the dusk sky. Zelda wondered how just about every sunset seemed to be so beautiful and unique, every time. </p><p> </p><p>Link had prepared a stew for both of them. It was chock-full of vegetables and meat. Zelda reckoned this had to be her heartiest meal in months. Unbeknownst to the princess, her knight’s pantry was utterly stuffed with all sorts of spices and dried herbs from just about every corner of Hyrule. Watching Link pull out an armful of satchels made her want to punch a wall, just a little bit.</p><p> </p><p>She observed as he ate. In between bites of her own food, of course. It seemed that his ravenous appetite had finally returned to him.</p><p>The spoon clinking gently on its bowl across the table was a sound Zelda simply was never privy to before, but it was so very comforting to her, as if she had known what it sounded like since before the Calamity. </p><p><em> Tlack. Tlack. Tlack. Tlack. </em> </p><p>Link either didn’t notice, or ignored her frequent shifts of gaze, and continued downing the stew, at a much more reasonable pace than with Zelda’s meals. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Oh gods, did he simply just not like my cooking? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Zelda reminisced to the few months of practically unseasoned, boiled, fried at best, food. She never realised how numb she was to it until she took a bite of that egg tart, and this stew.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>She sniffled. The stew was hot, so she decided that was the reason why. Link stopped, and looked up from his bowl.</p><p> </p><p>She sniffled again. It wasn’t the stew. Pressing her lips thin, she took another bite.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s very good.”</p><p> </p><p>Link rested his spoon. “Are… are you alright?”</p><p> </p><p><em> Snap. </em>She broke. Her chest felt like someone was squeezing the blood from it.</p><p> </p><p>“No,” she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, “no I’m not.”<br/><br/></p><p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>Night had fallen on the temperamental sands of Gerudo desert, and the sunless chill had begun to set in.</p><p>Zelda sat huddled in a blanket, in a tent, on the outskirts of Kara Kara bazaar. She was almost murdered earlier today. Hands just about as shaky as then, she retrieved a warmed cup of tea from the stones surrounding the diminutive fire pit. </p><p> </p><p>The ink in her diary was almost done drying. </p><p>In retrospect, it may have been a better idea to write with steady hands. </p><p> </p><p>Oh well, no one else was going to read it. She would burn it before she died.</p><p> </p><p>Deeming the ink dry enough, she shut the book and locked it, then placed it carefully in her travel bag, towards the bottom.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Someone tapped on the tent. Her heart stopped. They tapped two more times, rhythmically. It was just Link. He had brought an extra blanket, and motioned for her to take it.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh-- thank you.” She reached out from her cocoon to grab it. Midway, Link grabbed her arm and looked it over dutifully.<br/><br/>“Link, I’m alright, really.” No she wasn’t. She absolutely wasn’t. Her hand was still trembling like a newborn deer. She watched as he studied her arm for even the smallest scratch.</p><p> </p><p>Zelda didn’t actually <em> know </em> what a privately selected personal guard would do in an assasination attempt situation. She was not expecting him to slice a man’s torso almost <em> in half </em> in one swing. She didn’t want to remember what his organs looked like. She went a little pale at the memory of the blood.</p><p> </p><p>Link looked at her, concerned. </p><p> </p><p>“I- I’m fine. I’m alright, please don’t worry.”</p><p> </p><p>He let go, and sat the blanket down by her.</p><p><br/>“I appreciate your concern but I’m… I’m fine, really.” She tried her best at faking a smile. “You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.”</p><p> </p><p>He wanted to. He <em> had </em> to. Even if he wasn’t in-</p><p> </p><p>Even if he wasn’t her sworn knight, it would simply be rude to leave someone in her state alone. So he sat down.</p><p> </p><p>“I suppose that means no, then.” She chuckled to herself.</p><p> </p><p>The wind outside whistled in the way you’d only be able to hear in a desert. It was loud as hell. Zelda flinched at every creak from the wood of nearby tents. Link almost couldn’t bear it. He wanted to cuss out the gods for subjecting a princess to such a gruesome sight. Instead, he opted to drape the second blanket over Zelda. </p><p> </p><p>She looked up at him, cup still trembling just as bad as when he entered. He was still nowhere near brave enough to speak to her, but he wanted to do <em> something </em> , <em> anything </em> to make her feel better.</p><p> </p><p>He placed his hand over the top of the cup, and tried to smile reassuringly at the princess without looking like a ghost.</p><p> </p><p>Her alert eyes softened a bit, and the corners of her mouth lifted slightly. </p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Link.” This time she didn’t jump at the fluttering of a nearby tent’s doors.</p><p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p><br/>Link stared at her for a moment. “Would you…” He knew he was walking on already broken eggshells. “Could you tell me why?”</p><p> </p><p>They sat in silence across from each other. Zelda knew this wouldn’t do anything to help, but she didn’t want to scream, or cry, or walk away from Link. She <em> wanted </em> to <em> wait </em> til they had <em> finished </em> their dinners, damnit Hylia!</p><p> </p><p>The lack of response was deafening, to both of them. She couldn’t bring herself to look up from her half-full bowl. Neither of them were good at talking about… <em> feelings. </em></p><p> </p><p>“Link?” She asked the spoon. </p><p> </p><p>The utensil was silent. So was Link.</p><p><br/>“Do you… resent me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Why-”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s just-” Zelda looked up from the spoon, “today is the…  I- I know you were very ill, and I- I-”</p><p> </p><p>“Why would I resent you?” He cut over her, but his eyes were sincere.”Does it… does it seem like I do?”</p><p> </p><p>Zelda gripped the spoon tighter. “No, I…” She couldn’t keep eye contact with him any longer. “The past few months you… you’d hardly spoken to me, hardly <em> looked </em> at me- I…”</p><p> </p><p>Link looked like he’d been stabbed.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve ignored it but now that… now that you’re better I-” She was struggling to stay afloat. “What <em> happened </em> to you?!” She felt like a toddler, but went on anyway. “Why would you act like that? What spurred that on? Did I do or-- or say something wrong?”</p><p> </p><p>Link blinked. “No!” He hadn’t realised he shouted. “Zelda, I-” He frowned. “I’m so sorry.” His gaze refused to break. “I don’t… I don’t remember much of anything that happened, then. But I… I remember-”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, drop it!” She spat. “I can forgive not remembering your past, but this was <em> last week, </em> Link! It was <em> yester- </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“I remember how kind, and how patient you were.” Zelda looked at him hesitantly. “I felt like I was walking through the densest fog you could imagine, all the time.” He shook his head. “I don’t actually know what it was that Purah did, specifically, but I-”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re back, then.” She placed the spoon down. “Back to normal, then? Just like that?” The princess stood up abruptly. The chair groaned against the wooden floor. “As if nothing happened? As if it was just-- just some bad dream?” She glowered at him. “Do you know how long bad dreams really are?”</p><p> </p><p>She stood in glum silence for some time. Link appeared to be utterly stumped.</p><p> </p><p>Zelda turned away from her <em> stupid </em> knight. “Do you know how long a hundred years is, Link?”</p><p> </p><p>The oil light of the overhead lamps dimly illuminated them. The sun had finally set fully. Rain had begun tapping against the windows and roof. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Takatakatakatakatakatakataka… </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The knight- the <em> stupid </em> knight- stood up, pushed his chair in, and walked around the table, towards his <em> stupid </em> princess. His voice became stern, a tone she had only heard him use once- maybe twice- before.</p><p> </p><p>“I cannot offer an explanation for my actions. I can only offer my deepest, sincerest apologies.” He was kneeling. <em> Kneeling! </em> Zelda hadn’t seen him kneel in… in a hundred years! </p><p> </p><p>Everything was a hundred years ago! Every little thing she saw, said, or did had to somehow tie into her life-- no-- her death- a century ago! She wanted to yell, holler, scream, cry-- anything!</p><p> </p><p>She took a deep breath, and mirrored his kneel.</p><p> </p><p>“I suppose that’s adequate, for now, sir knight.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hiii (bats you with a shovel) you think we can have NICE THINGS? this was mostly done in one sitting because this scene caame to me lkike a vision from god.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Are These my Memories?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Mild gore warning for this one, hope y'all enjoy ヽ(*・ω・)ﾉ</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Zelda was leafing through a book she plucked from one of her overstuffed bookshelves at the dinner table. Link was out running an errand in the town and she needed something to busy her mind with in the meantime. Even though she still wasn’t entirely satisfied with Link’s explanation for himself a few nights ago, she didn’t want to dwell on it. If she dwelled on it for too long she began thinking it was just…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She shuddered, then turned the page again. It was about mushrooms. She liked mushrooms very much. Link does too. Well- he likes just about anything, still. He’s been smiling again. And talking to her. He’s so much like himself it hurts. He’s so different from himself it burns. The air is so thick it’s suffocating.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Did Ganon finally find the key to the innermost sanctuary of her memories? How long will </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> torment last? Months? Years? When will </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>Link’s-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Link opened the shabby door to his shabby house. He stared at Zelda, sitting at his shabby table. Her hand was clasped over her mouth, and she was taking shaky breaths. She looked at him the same way a deer would. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link dropped his bag of fresh food and barreled towards Zelda. Oh gods here it comes, his face will-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Zelda, Zelda are you alright?!” He leaned down to eye level with her, brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, and removed her hand from her mouth, holding it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A sound she hadn’t made in a while escaped her throat. It was somewhere between a whimper and a yelp. She gazed him in the eye. They were so blue and pretty. And real. She squeezed his hand, hard. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Did she </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> want to cry? She understood full well the absurdity of the situation. He had only been gone for a few hours and yet Zelda-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, tell me what’s wrong.” He was real. This was Link. Was he? Her jaw tightened. How could she even </span>
  <em>
    <span>begin</span>
  </em>
  <span> to describe…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“May I tell you a story?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Link blinked, then came back to reality. “Of course you can.” He released her hand, then kneeled down beside her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Zelda squirmed a bit. Why did she have to say that? Why did she want to tell a story now? She took a deep breath, and thought for a moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“About 20 years before you were set to exit that shrine,” Zelda turned away from Link, “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this- really.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Link stared at her in earnest. “Please, continue.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes- yes of course, anyways, 20 years before you emerged, I…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I saw a man in Hyrule field, the first one i saw there in</span>
  <em>
    <span> 45 years</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I believe. He-” Zelda’s voice cracked, revealing her already unmasked sorrow. “He looked so much like you, Link. I- I couldn’t see the fine details from the castle but he… He was most likely treasure hunting.” She closed her eyes, drinking deeply from a memory that she knew she’d only gain pain from.  “I… I was so ecstatic. I had-- I…” The princess shook her head somberly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I had spent so long there that I had forgotten what you </span>
  <em>
    <span>looked </span>
  </em>
  <span>like. All I could remember at that point was a short, blond, purple-sword wielding knight.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait- short?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zelda’s mood livened slightly. “You still are,” she half-chuckled, “anyways, I watched that man for many weeks, I saw him scour just about every ruin in the field, dodging the handful of guardians that dotted the plains- at the time.” She stopped.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And…?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The scholar squirmed uncomfortably, but steeled herself. She started this conversation, she would finish it, no matter how much that memory made her want to vomit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I saw him get blown in half by one of them, after about a month.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link stared at her for a moment, mouth ajar. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wh- what?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s… it’s the reason there was so much malice that engulfed the castle. It’s the reason Hyrule was… so much more </span>
  <em>
    <span>dangerous</span>
  </em>
  <span> when you woke up.” Zelda looked nauseous. “I truly thought it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I was so overcome with grief-- I- I couldn’t hold onto the Beast as tightly as I once did… I allowed it to grow in strength to the point you faced it at.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Zelda-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before Link could continue, Zelda went on. “Those last 20 years were worse than hell, Link. Even if I wanted to die, I couldn’t. The goddesses </span>
  <em>
    <span>kept me there</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Even if they didn’t-- I don’t think Ganon would let it’s sworn enemy perish so easily.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She winced. “It taunted me, Link. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It</span>
  </em>
  <span> knew what you looked like. It knew what </span>
  <em>
    <span>different </span>
  </em>
  <span>you’s looked like. I don’t know why </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> knew they were you but…” She sniffled. “It always used a different voice, trying to make me forget yours as best as it could. Sometimes it would speak with--”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Zelda, please,” Link went to grab her hand again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No!” Zelda yelped, batting him away. How could she </span>
  <em>
    <span>possibly</span>
  </em>
  <span> know this Link was real? That he wouldn’t explode into a puff of blood-scented smoke and lightning?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Y-” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She stopped, feeling like a prey animal, and met Link’s shocked expression. Ganon could never remember what color his eyes were. It hadn’t known him for long enough. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I-” she crumpled, “I’m sorry, I…” She could feel the warm tears streaming down her cheeks. Was she always this easy to break?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “I’m so... </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorry</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Link stood up, then held Zelda for some time. He didn’t know what else to do. Though he felt like someone told him to do it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t recoil to this, like she was so used to doing in that </span>
  <em>
    <span>blasted </span>
  </em>
  <span>castle. In that </span>
  <em>
    <span>blasted </span>
  </em>
  <span>miasma. In that </span>
  <em>
    <span>blasted beast’s bosom</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Zelda allowed herself to untense her body, even though her muscle memory </span>
  <em>
    <span>screamed</span>
  </em>
  <span> at her to be on guard.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m so tired, Link.” She heaved. “I’m so, so tired.” She leaned into him, and slowly steadied- no- grounded herself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~~~~~~~~</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zelda woke up in the castle, again. No she didn’t. Yes she does. She doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to wake up here.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fine. She wakes up in a field instead, then. It’s on fire. A peculiar hue, the fire is. Pink and black and bloody all over.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Zelda wakes up in a spring. Its waters are so, so cold. She can hear a stranger breathing, barely, behind her. She doesn’t turn around. Oh, that’s not water.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The goddess wakes up on a bird. A mangled boy in a tattered green outfit with matted hair and sad eyes smiles at her in a memory she never had.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A pirate wakes up on a ship. She looks at a frail boy sleeping in a hammock by her. Ten, maybe? She can’t tell. He doesn’t have a head. Oh well.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Zelda wakes up in a world similar to her own, but much, much older. She doesn’t like waking up here, the calamity reaches its boiling point when it thinks about </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> Zelda. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> other one. He looks older this time. Gerudo? Gerudo haven’t had a male in innumerable generations. Who is he? Oh, he was swallowed up by the ground. Maybe next time his red hair will garner more sympathy from the pink force of nature. Maybe the pink force of nature will remember that it, too, was once mortal. Maybe it still is? Maybe its suffering worse than Zelda is now. Maybe it doesn't know what it's actually doing. Maybe it wants to toy with her for all eternity. Maybe it wants a friend. Maybe it wants a meal. Mushroom porridge sounds so good right now.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Zelda wakes up in the castle again. Wait, no, different castle. There’s a dog this time. Well, there </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> a dog. And the remains of someone she knew but never knew. Someone she was pretty sure she was in love with. Gods, she was so pretty. Oh well, they’re falling sideways into the fireplace. It screeches like a pig being slaughtered.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Who’s waking up now? The little girl sees her mother, at the end of the hallway. A ghost. A memory? A game. A painful longing. Her mother never turns around. The hallway gets longer, and she keeps running.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Zelda wakes up, the moon is falling. Zelda wakes up, it’s seven years later. Zelda wakes up, there’s four corpses now. Zelda wakes up, she’s stuck in a wall. Zelda wakes up, she's stuck in another blistering-hot crystal, damnit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zelda wakes up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pirate wakes up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The goddess wakes up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The little girl wakes up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The holy demon wakes up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ire of her captor wakes up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hatred and malice incarnate wakes up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link wakes up. No he doesn’t. Yes he will. No he won’t.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Who’s Link? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She hopes he was nicer than Ganon. All Ganon does is mess with her. All Ganon does is rip open her flesh and pour into her wounds. Wounds she didn’t know were hers to begin with.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh right, I remember Link, he died, right?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Right!” The little girl beamed with pride at answering correctly. She went back to sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link shook her awake. No, not Link. Wrong eyes, again. She went back to sleep.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Link shook her awake. No, not Link. No face, again. She went back to sleep.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Someone shook her awake. No, not him. Who? Whatever, I’m tired. She went back to sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Blue. Blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, </span>
  <em>
    <span>cerulean</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The sky. The sea. No, the sea is too dark. Where was the sea? They matched the tunic. Ganon was tired too, or it was just lazy. Sad? Did Ganondorf Dragmire ever have friends? Family?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Did she?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oh well, she can see the bones peeking through the flesh on the hands of that boy she keeps dreaming about. He’s sleeping, too. She remembers the bard. Her advisor. Some scientists? Her siblings? No that’s not right. Four people. A large man. A short, blond, purple sword-wielding knight with cerulean eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ganon shrieks and groans and crackles and moans and cries and whispers and bleeds and spits and evaporates in and out and in and out and in and surrounds her in an acidic maelstrom of pain and anger and sadness and loss and loneliness and betrayal and a corpse underground that looks </span>
  <em>
    <span>so much</span>
  </em>
  <span> like that Gerudo and</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Zelda wakes up. She has Link’s shadow in a chokehold. She’s crying. She can’t stop. She’s swallowed whole and carves herself out and does the same dance she has been doing for too many days and weeks and months and years to count. She goes back to sleep.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Someone wakes up. Will he ever?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I promise i don't update these things at fuck AM on purpose im just. yknow. (waves hand)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Colors Unseen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Zelda shot up in her bed. Eyes wide, dry, and blurry. She was in a cold sweat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moon hung lazily just out of the window’s view, it wasn’t red. It hadn’t been in months. She exhaled- slowly, not wanting to wake her housemate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link was a light sleeper- lighter than she had ever seen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If he came up here for another night terror, she would… She would… What? What would she do? Cry again? The other night was already so pathetic, and she was already so dehydrated, and-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And what? She rubbed her eyes, and gazed out the window. Cool blue light filtered through the thin film of dust on the panes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mid-spring brought so many things. Flowers, and rain, and cloudy days, and less blood, and the closest thing she got to a rest during her battle with the Beast. She liked the flowers most of all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow, after seventy years, dandelions had enough strength- or willpower- to bloom on the castle’s grass. Every year after, for a few weeks at a time, the monument of evil would burst into a dulled yellow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her knight had yet to see it, for he awoke at the start of summer and rescued her in late fall.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Link had woken up, this time in mid-spring. Zelda heard his bed creak from him getting off of it, and he was already making his way upstairs. It was too late for her to flop back down and pretend to be asleep, so she braced herself. Looking down, the princess twiddled her thumbs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Zelda?” Link called out in a hushed voice as he ascended the staircase.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mmn?” She raised her head to meet his concerned eyes. In the thin moonlight, they almost seemed to glow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link pulled out the chair from their desk, and sat by the foot of Zelda’s bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You shot up again, did you have another one?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zelda pressed her lips thin and nodded. How utterly embarrassing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Third one this week.” He sighed and leaned back into the chair. Zelda knew he could hazard a guess as to why, but would he ever know </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> why she was afflicted so? One hundred years of ceaseless torment is… well it’s hard for her to imagine, now. Even if she lived it, it felt so… fake. So impossible. Being here, with Link, however, felt so real. So genuine. So right. So fleeting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her knight looked her up and down. She was hunched over herself, dreary-eyed, shoulders forward. An absolute travesty to her governess’s teachings about proper posture for the upper-crust. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll fix you something to drink.” He wasn’t always aware of what he should say, or when, or how, but he almost always knew what to </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zelda watched him make his way downstairs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” She whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Link grabbed a bottle of milk from his, quite frankly, overstuffed cabinet, and shuffled outside. Zelda waited for the door to close before she sighed and dropped back onto the mattress.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yesterday she had gone to see Purah. She had given Zelda a parcel while they were enjoying a small lunch together, and asked her to deliver it to her sister next time she saw her. The princess gazed over to her desk, where the unopened box lay. She wanted to go see Impa soon anyways. Winter had come and gone, and it was finally easy to traverse Necludia again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She wondered what Impa was doing now. Link and Purah had told Zelda about her granddaughter, and other people in the village, but Link had hardly anything to say about Impa herself. Perhaps they hadn’t the time to properly speak with one another? She mulled over a thousand different possible conversations between them at once.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She thought back to their playful bickering back before the calamity. When they were younger. Happier. When Link knew his parent’s names, and when Impa had yet to even consider having a child.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sighed, once again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She really wanted to see Impa. and Robbie. And whoever else was still alive.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The young princess sat in the royal library, her current favorite spot, amongst the river of scholars pouring in and out of the great chamber, tomes and scrolls and books and poems and papers and free time in hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Impa, a daughter of an affluent Sheikah household, three years Zelda’s senior, sat across from her. The table was far too large for them. They were both scribbling pictures of the men and women that passed them by, and showing each other, giggling, as soon as they turned the corner to exit the hall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Purah, Impa’s older sister, was rifling through a bookshelf on the second floor, and Robbie, her partner in crime, was writing down chemical formulas on a table nearby.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The intermittent fits of giggling had finally caught his attention. He got up and loomed over the girls, hands on his hips, an impish smile plastered on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He looked over the drawings strewn across the table. “Why do you make their hands so big?” Robbie pointed at one Impa was working on. One of the many priests that shuffle through on their way to the castle’s shrine. Impa, in reaction, stuck her tongue out at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Robbie leaned over, using Impa’s head as a rest for his shoulder. “So who are you drawing, little princess?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zelda, six years old and hot-tempered, covered up her drawing with a new paper. “None of your business,” she mirrored Impa’s retaliation, “don’t you have studying to do?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The fledgling pyromaniac snickered. Zelda had already accepted the chaos that was about to ensue. She arranged her drawings in neat order, so that they would be easy to carry out in a mad-dash.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Purah’s second sense had kicked in, and she was leaning over the railing, observing like a hawk. A very preemptively angry hawk.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Robbie, finding this a suitable signal, undid Impa’s carefully styled hair, and hovered over her, awaiting the inevitable chase.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Zelda,” Impa said as sweetly as she could through grinding teeth, “I suggest you get out of here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The young princess nodded as quickly as she could, bunched up her papers, and bolted for the stairway, not before Robbie barreled past her- in hot pursuit by Impa, who was making sounds not dissimilar to a </span>
  <em>
    <span>thoroughly </span>
  </em>
  <span>pissed off hound. Her hair was flying wildly behind her. Zelda took a quiet delight in knowing she would be the one to brush it later.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“UGH!” Purah’s cry reverberated through the library, and she dropped her papers to go after the duo. Zelda watched as she descended the stairs after them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finding the commotion suitably quieted, she made her way off to her room. The gaggle of pages just outside stared at her in utter bewilderment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door creaked open, and Link came in, carrying two cups of warmed milk, and a half full bottle of leftover milk. He set down the cups, put away the bottle, and brought the warmed drinks to the loft.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zelda used her elbows to prop herself up, then swung her legs out from under the blanket, over the side of the bed. She straightened her back out of instinct. Link handed her a cup and sat down beside her, once again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The nightmare-plagued scholar took a sip, burned her tongue, and held the drink in her lap. Link noticed. He always does.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry… I should’ve let it cool down.” He turned his attention to his own cup. They were both still steaming. He had boiled the milk instead of just warming it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The corners of Zelda’s mouth upturned. “It’s alright.” She ran her thumb against the side of her cup. “I appreciate it either way.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Link’s ears perked up in a way she hadn’t seen in ages- literally. She felt a little part of herself yelp. “I’m glad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The milk had finally cooled enough to drink, the princess sipped while blankly gazing out the window. It was still so blue outside. It wasn’t a cold blue, though. It was an inviting, warm kind of blue. The same kind of blue one might say the same for the waters of Faron’s coast. It wasn’t Link blue. That blue was piercing, radiant even. It was the kind of blue she would get oh-so-very hopelessly lost in. Like a fog.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She remembered when Impa came along with her to trek through the lost woods, in order to pay reverence and tribute to the Great Deku Tree. She remembered how her snow-white hair made her blend into the fog there, like some kind of wraith.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Link?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm?” He broke his attention from his drink.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How do you feel about… taking a trip?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Shorter chapter this time... real Pining Hours</p><p>also 1K HITS??? THANK U GUYS ;_; im glad y'all enjoy my crazed writings...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. I Want to See it All.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Link had finally fastened the last bag onto Storm’s flanks. It seemed to be accustomed to carrying extra weight- Link must’ve loaded it up with tens of pounds of food before. Poor thing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You know, if you just let it go with…” Zelda paused to think and do a rudimentary calculation in her head, “a little over half of that, we’d make the trip in probably half the time.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Link clicked his tongue and shook his head in disagreement. “If I go without everyone’s favorites, how will I be able to make food everybody likes?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Zelda rolled her eyes. She already knew a quarter of the food was going straight to the bottomless pit that was her knight’s stomach. She held her tongue, however, and sighed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Due to Storm being laden down with such an excess of supplies, Zelda and Link decided their best option would be to walk, and lead the horse behind them. Link wasn’t too keen on looking like a traveling merchant, leading a donkey packed with twice its height’s worth of goods. The princess wasn’t keen either, but for the sake of Storm’s health, they weren’t concerned with keeping up presentations. Zelda knew she didn’t have to worry about </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> ever again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Their departure only turned two heads, the shopkeeper's wife, and the morning gate guard. The duo waved to both of them on the way out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A thin fog hung over the old archery camp and its surroundings, Fir river was bubbling lazily past them, and everything smelled strongly of dew. The sky above was clear and blue, only a few clouds drifting by. Zelda felt like she was walking through a dream, though, not one of the bad ones.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Birdsong cut through the soft wind and quiet footsteps of the three travelers. Travelers. Zelda liked the sound of that. No one would recognise her and bow anymore, or offer empty praise, or give her dirty looks. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Well, besides the gate guard, but he did that to everyone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She drank deeply from the foggy air. It smelled like spring. </span>
  <em>
    <span>True</span>
  </em>
  <span> spring. Not the kind that was muddied by the smell of blood and metal and stone and sweat and death. Rot was such a unique smell, and yet, the Calamity mimicked it perfectly. There was no flesh there for it to consume once fifty years had come and gone, by then even the bones had been ground to nothing. The smell stayed, though! No matter how long she was exposed to it, it still burned her sinuses. Maybe that’s just what Ganon smelled like? Gods, the thing should’ve taken a bath.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They had given Storm a thorough scrubbing before they set off. Link somehow kept his talent for horses over a hundred years. The old curmudgeon almost bucked Zelda, but Link pulled her out of the way in time. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Never stand behind a horse being cleaned</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he told her. She decided that would be wise to keep in mind, now.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She wondered if the old stablehands at the castle had time to escape, time to fall in love, time to have a family and rebuild.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Time to remember her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Link?” He was walking behind her, as always. “What do you think is your favorite flower?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tmp, tmp, tmp, tmp</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d have to say… Swift violets.” Zelda was glad he was walking behind her, he always talked quietly, and being outside made him even harder to hear.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, really!” He sounded like he was being teased.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose I thought of you more as a… Nightshade person?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tmp, tmp, tmp, tmp</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nightshades are nice, I suppose,” the early spring breeze danced past them, “violets just appealed to me more.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I see.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The few overhead trees dotting the path across from the Cliffs of Quince were bursting with flowers, these ones were pink and white, unlike the orange and purple blooms of Midla woods. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Impa loved nightshade.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kakariko village was asleep. It was nearly 4 in the morning, not even the farmers were up yet. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Two children were, though. Neither of them should have been, but they were looking for something. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fireflies floated here and there, always just out of reach, like little green stars. Zelda thought they made Impa’s hair sparkle.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She was staying in Kakariko for a diplomatic talk with her father, usually the village’s matriarch would come to the castle, but Zelda had goaded her father sufficiently, so it seemed. She always loved Kakariko village, the way the roofs sloped down, the hope in the people’s eyes, and how the rain sounded in the small canyon. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before ascending up the cliffside, the girls tried vainly to catch the fireflies that circled overhead, quietly giggling to each other and whatever ghosts wandered the paths. Ghosts that were probably quite cross with their actions.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Zelda had yet to go up such a steep incline, so she clung to the cliffside as she inched her way up, Impa was far ahead and prancing up the entire way.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The shrine overlooking the village was quiet- it always was, but in the deepest hours of the night, it was especially so. It had a comforting atmosphere to it, Zelda thought, almost like she could fall asleep comfortably at its entrance.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The only thing that lit up their path now was the soft glow of yet more fireflies, and the half-covered moon. Zelda and Impa knew what they were searching for, however, and they knew it would be easy to see at night. They steeled themselves silently, held hands, and walked into the dark, dense thicket above the village.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>know where you’re going?” Zelda looked over to Impa, who was trying very hard to look brave.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Um… Yes and no,” Zelda gripped her hand tighter, “the older kids told me to follow the smell.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Zelda, eight years old and wise beyond her years, didn’t believe for a second that Impa’s nose was good enough to detect a single type of flower in a forest.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Late springtime nights were just the right temperature for roaming. Roaming when one absolutely shouldn’t be. Roaming without supervision.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Impa stopped.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you hear that?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?” Zelda’s legs turned to stone with sudden fear.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The chimes!” Impa shout-whispered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Chimes?” From stone her legs turned to jelly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Shh!” Impa motioned for the princess to stay quiet. Zelda nodded.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The little Sheikah girl led the two, quietly and carefully, towards the sound. Soft pink light filtered its way through the trunks and underbrush ahead.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fairies.” Impa breathed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Zelda clung to her side. Her governess told her to avoid fairies, that they would spirit her away and that Hyrule would be doomed. These ones were gathered around something. Something the girls were looking for. They didn’t even notice the Great Fairy Fountain behind it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Impa stepped forward and called out. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The fairies, seemingly startled, buzzed away from the Silent Princess in a rush, leaving only glittering pink dust behind. Some stuck to Impa’s hair, shining like countless, tiny, pink fireflies.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Zelda’s anxiety faded as quickly as it came, and the duo laughed at the absurdity of their situation.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The dust on Impa’s hair shuddered and made it shake slightly. The girls were too busy giggling amongst themselves to notice innumerable little wings sprouting from the pink glitter, which carried it off and away from Impa’s silver locks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fort Hateno. Its decrepit ruinous walls stood ahead of them. Zelda wasn’t awake on their first trip through its small gate. The stench of death no longer lingered here, any metal had long rusted away, and the saplings that once dotted the path had grown into magnificent trees, fed no doubt by the nutrients of the dead. They stood as a sort of memorial, Zelda thought. A reminder only to a select few.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She looked past the gate, the spot where he died was hidden behind a shallow hill. He knows, now. She saw him go there, she saw him stare.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They said nothing as they passed by the field. There was an encampment of bokoblins near the road that must’ve sensed their mood, as they left them alone. Lake Siela was quiet, and the cliffside leading to Kakariko showed signs of erosion Zelda never noticed before. Maybe by the time she was two hundred it would be half broken away? Two hundred years. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Two hundred years</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Over half the lifespan of the average Zora, if she was lucky. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Would it be considered lucky? By then even Link would probably…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>How old did Zelda </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be? She was about a hundred and seventeen, now. Most Hylians die before then. Sheikah are a little more lucky, their average lifespan is a clean hundred years old. The princess pondered whether she wanted to be a teenager or an old crone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hyrule was so different now. It had changed so much over a century, but only in minute ways, ways that would drive someone trapped for a century mad. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Indeed, they did drive Zelda mad. The air isn’t as sweet as she remembered, the grass not as soft, the cliffs and mountains and valleys ever so slightly misshapen. The faces and people utterly unrecognisable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Link looked the same, at least. He acts similar, too. Close enough.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The three stopped for a rest at Kakariko bridge. The stone was worn down smooth, and parts of the bridge had fallen away. Lake Siela’s current was stronger here, she wouldn’t dare take a swim.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What sounds good to eat?” Her knight’s familiar voice rang out, slightly louder than usual, to be heard over the current.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Roasted vegetables sound delightful!”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>mourning something you've never experienced.....!?!</p>
<p>finally an update at a human hour /-D......</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. I Miss What I Can't Know</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kakariko Pass was still. The great pillars of Levia loomed over them dutifully, guarding the village from winds and storms. Zelda felt as if she could be swallowed whole by the stone cliffs to either side. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Storm was lagging behind, and Link had taken up the duty of slowing pace to avoid dragging the poor steed. Unfortunately, their rest did little to rest <em> it </em> , as the extra weight likely made its knees sore. <em> Shame on Link, even after being told to lighten the load! </em>A sound interrupted her thoughts. Very distinct from the wind, it was.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was humming. It was a painfully familiar tune, the same one he crooned to Zelda’s horse when it first bucked her off. The same one he softly sang to himself on their first trip to Zora’s domain without a small battalion following behind them. The same one she fell asleep to, after her victory. </p>
<p>He hadn’t sung it in a while, a few months, at least. <em> You went without it for a century </em>. The memory stayed fresh, though. Not unlike a wound, but one that brought comfort instead of pain.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He wasn’t particularly spectacular at it, a few notes were off-key here and there and his underused, crackly voice was no solace, but it had a certain… quality. It was genuine. Zelda thought back to the countless, annoying suitors that attempted to sway her with empty lyrics and endless ballads. She would never be rude up-front, always politely declining, dreading their eventual return. Her and Mipha shared this woe, and would always lament to each other in their short visits, before… </p>
<p> </p>
<p>How had she not thought of Mipha sooner? What about Revali, Urbosa, and Daruk? Their people?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Zelda came to a halt next to a small bubbling stream of water coming from the cliffside. Link paused his humming as she turned around, a mournful look was plastered on her face. Oh no.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She stared at him, probably making a strange expression. Her braided, sun-colored hair draped over her right shoulder. Her sad eyes. Oh no, indeed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you remember anything of the champions, Link?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He closed the gap between them slightly, Storm’s bridle in hand. The horse was idly munching away at its bit. He looked… lonely? Distant. Thinking.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I have… fragments,” He apparently closed the gap enough for himself, “I remember the most from those… the photos.” He used his free hand to lazily point at the sheikah slate. Her photos.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Zelda’s ears twitched. She suddenly wished that she captured more moments. More time. More of Link. The slate had only so much storage, but… twelve? Twelve half-baked glimpses into the past to base your entire… your entire new <em> life </em> on? She felt sick to her stomach. Does he even remember his sister? His father? Pam, Letty, Eda, Mullin, Silvie, and Catherine? His knight friends? The people of castle town he would always help? The little boy from Hateno he couldn’t save in time?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I may not remember where I know them from, but I… I remember some things.” His eyes were so bright. So full of hope he no longer had use for. “I remember smells, and feelings, and sounds, but faces are always... “ he paused in an attempt to find the right word, “not <em> gone </em>, per se, but… impossible to discern.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She felt even worse. “I… see.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The first gate to Kakariko village stood before them, its wood creaked faintly from the wind blowing through the pass. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Please don’t feel guilt over it,” he sighed, “you can’t… <em> We </em> can’t change our pasts.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The wind grew still. Had she just a little more time, she could’ve. </p>
<p>She would’ve.</p>
<p>Gods, she wanted to. She wanted to show Link her favorite hiding spots in the castle, the best spots to get a view of the Great Hyrule Forest from the military training camp, her favorite books. Anything. Anything other than showing him how hard she could cry, how vulnerable she could be when she had no one to turn to, things that broke her. Things he doesn’t remember anymore.</p>
<p><br/>“I know that I can’t say you carry no blame.” He was so quiet. “I know I don’t know the… the full <em> story </em>.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Link-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I… I didn’t even know my name when I woke up.” Storm stamped his hoof impatiently.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Link.” she cut him off, and closed the gap between them. “Your words are kind, and, I hope, true.” Zelda grabbed the hand in which rested Storm’s bridle, and held it. “I… I want to tell you <em> everything </em>, someday.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The hope returned.<br/><br/>“It won’t be today, or tomorrow, maybe… maybe not even a year from now.” She looked down at his gloved hand. He was gripping the bridle as if it was a cliff’s edge. “Just… please be patient enough to not make me cry today.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They stood there for a moment, staring at each other’s hands. One filled with scars and old bruises. The other filled with regret and pain. Both gently intertwined, along with Storm’s bridle.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“May I ask for something in return?” He moved his gaze upwards.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course!” She didn’t want to look up, to leave the moment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tell me about them. About you. About Hyrule, anything.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Zelda’s hand tightened around her knight’s. She wanted to. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I will. I promise I will."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p>
<p>Night had just fallen on Hyrule castle. The final chirps and songs of the birds outside made way for crickets and other night-creatures’ sounds. Princess Zelda was looking out her bedroom window unto the kingdom before her. The castle walls blocked off some of her view.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As a child, she imagined it as a sort of birdcage. Now in her teen years, she felt it was more of a graveyard in the making. On the darkest of nights she swears she can hear the voices of people she never knew speaking in long-forgotten languages. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Impa sat in the reclining couch by her fireplace, flipping through one of Zelda’s countless books. She was keeping watch over the princess after yet another Yiga scare within castle town today. No one was hurt, but Impa didn’t mind an excuse to spend the night with her best friend- even if she would get no sleep during it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her presence comforted Zelda, as well. Even though she was- quite literally- the princess at the top of the tower- someone being with her made her feel more safe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Impa,” she called out as she gazed, “do you think the gods care anymore?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The royal advisor peeked up from the tome about astronomy. “Well, if I’m trying not to be blasphemous, yes.” She closed it and set it aside. “But... if I’m being truthful, no.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Zelda slouched back into her desk chair. “I don’t think so, either.” She half-laughed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I wonder how long they would’ve <em> had </em> to?” Impa threw her legs onto the couch and used it for its intended purpose. “Hyrule has been around for… well… we don’t even know how long anymore!” She waved her hand above her dramatically, talking to the ceiling.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How long do you think <em> you </em> would’ve cared for?” Zelda turned around to query.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hmm… dunno!” She draped her arm on the backrest. “Maybe a hundred. Or a million. I guess it depends on how much it all matters, huh?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Zelda went silent.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well- not saying what’s happening now doesn’t matter- I-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, no it’s fine,” the princess looked out the window once again, “I think I’m extrapolating a little too much for my own good.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s understandable, though,” Impa propped her head up on her hand, “with… everything you’ve been through.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The princess smiled with her back against her guest. She wasn’t around often, but she always knew how to make her feel better.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m going to my study, if you would like to join me.” She stood up from her desk, straightening her posture.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course!” The advisor swung her legs off of the couch and got up. They both casually made their way up Zelda’s large spiral staircase, and onto the bridge between rooms.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A handful of Rito watchmen were circling overhead, keeping an eye out for anyone coming in and out of the castle.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Zelda took a deep breath of the night air. It was sweet and muggy from the summer rains. She once again found herself staring at Hyrule field.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you think the people care anymore?” She asked Impa, who was slightly behind her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That I most certainly can’t say for sure on,” she paused, “but I still do.” She placed a hand on the princess’s shoulder and smiled reassuringly. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Zelda’s typical sad smile overtook her somber expression. “Thank you, Impa. You truly are kind.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In that moment, a certain Rito warrior dive bombed towards them- braking just before crashing into the bridge- and the duo.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Good evening, your highness, and advisor.” Revali said with his unique type of cockyness. He landed on the opposite side of the bridge to the girls. “I’m glad to inform you that my men above have absolutely <em> nothing </em> to report, after <em> four hours </em> in the air.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Impa scoffed. “Why would you come down to rest before them, then? Wouldn’t you say that’s a bit cruel?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Rito champion’s feathers ruffled. “<em> Tch- </em> well, you must understand that this isn’t a rest, simply a <em> report </em>,” he turned to Zelda, “your highness.” And with that, he left in a huff as soon as he came.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Once he had gotten out of earshot, the girls had a laughing fit amongst themselves.</p>
<p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The village was quiet, now. Dusk had just fallen, and those who were outside were making their way to their homes. Link and Zelda made their way in silence to the inn to get a bed and board for the night, along with dropping off their things. Storm was ever so grateful for the removal of all the extra weight.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They sat by the communal cooking pot next to the general store for some time. Zelda observed Link as he skewered some root vegetables and stuck them in the dirt around the fire to cook while he simmered some kind of sauce above. It seemed like some kind of mushroom gravy. It smelled so much better than anything she ever cooked. A few more minutes passed, and they dug in.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After finishing their meal, they approached the Kakariko matriarch house. It looked unchanged from Zelda’s memories. Finally- something familiar.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A single man stood at its entrance, Link greeted him, and he bowed for Zelda. She didn’t much care for that, but went up the stairs pretending not to be bothered.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The doors had the same wood. The metal had only slightly corroded. This house was so well taken care of.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She opened the great portal, and saw a frail, small, old woman sitting in prayer in the center of the staircase atop a floor pillow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Zelda stared at Impa. She was so old. She was so, so old. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Impa stared at her back. She was so young. She was so, so young. She almost reminded her of a ghost. She was pale enough to be one.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Zelda let out a whimper-y breath that almost sounded like a whistle, and slowly walked towards her friend. Sitting before her, she reached out and touched her face. The valleys and craters and scars of age wore her thin. Her hair was even more silvery and wirey than the normal Shiekah white. She was so old.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Link stood by the entrance, observing silently.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Impa reached up to grab Zelda’s hand. It was cold and bony and calloused against her delicate skin. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Impa smiled at Zelda in the way only grandmothers can. Almost every part of her face folded on itself. Zelda’s jaw tightened harder than it did in battle. She sniffled. </p>
<p><br/>“Impa.” Her voice was like snow, fragile and cold and soft and beautifully sad.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Zelda.” Her voice was like spiced wine, warm and smooth and welcoming.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Zelda couldn’t take it anymore. She really couldn’t. She started to bawl- like a baby. She desperately clutched onto Impa’s traditional robes. Ones she saw <em> her </em> grandmother wear. She was so small, like a withering flower.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Impa rubbed her back with her free arm. “It’s alright,” <em> pat pat </em>, “you can cry when I’m not here anymore.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Zelda froze, tears still running for their lives down her cheeks. Impa really hadn’t changed. Sure, she was a mother- and a <em> grandmother </em> , but… she… she was still <em> Impa </em>. Second in line heiress to the Kakariko matriarch title, a skilled warrior, a shoulder to cry on, her first crush, her best friend.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The princess’s sobs turned to chuckles, then to laughs. She pulled away and embraced her friend, her very old friend.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>yes i am leaving crumbs (spills entire bag of bread)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>